Crimson Snow
by XxSebastin'sXLittleXRobinxX
Summary: " Deep down the red eyed nation knew nothing would be solved and the result would cause him to sink deeper into his despair. He shivered as the freezing winds brushed bare skin. Cold leather pet his stomach as soft lips kissed his cheek."


Title: Crimson Snow

Pairing: Ivan/Gilbert

Warnings: Adult themes, BoyXBoy, Gilbert is a little OOC (at least I hope its a little. It was hard to stay in character with him an write what I wanted to happen.)

I do not own anything. I also apologize for any and all grammar/spelling mistakes

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_Crimson Snow_

Gilbert Beilschmidt never backed down from a challenge. No matter who was behind the confrontation, no matter what the consequence was. He never gave up because he was too awesome for something as dishonorable as that. Even when he shouldn't get involved the red eyed nation still made his presence known. It was how he was able to survive all these long years. How he was able to have fun, yet at the same time it was also how he got into trouble.

Gilbert smiled fondly at the memories surfacing. Francis and Antonio laughing as Elizaveta hit him with a frying pan again. Ludwig lecturing him about his behavior. The many pranks he pulled on Roderich and the look on the Austrian's face that always followed. And let's not forget all the countless drinking parties that the Bad Touch Trio attended. A soft laugh left his lips as he recalled one of those parties now. He remembered the words Francis had challenged him with during a night of drinking. Beer cans littered the floor like lily pads in a pond as the three of them sat in the middle.

Prussia sat on the floor leaning against the couch. One arm rested on the cushions acting as a pillow for his head as the other hung at his side with a beer in hand. Spain rambled on about his little Romano as France made forceful passes at him. He even turned to Gilbert a few times voicing complements that got him nowhere. There was nothing in this world that would get him drunk enough to sleep with the Frenchman.

The soft sound of flesh hitting flesh made the albino laugh. Ruby eyes looked at the scene before them with amusement. Francis had a hand holding his flushed cheek that was turning an angry red from the punch instead of the alcohol. The blonde nation had fallen off the couch from the force of the hit and was now being stared down by an angry Spain. He laughed even harder as the Frenchman shot to his feet the moment he regained his composure. As if just remembering that he was there the blonde haired nation turned to him with hazy burning eyes.

"What is so funny, Gilbert?" Francis said with a slur. The Prussian only laughed harder and pointed at the bright red mark on the other's cheek. A few cans rattled on the ground as he got up and a brief pout chased his amusement away as he spilt some of his beer. Antonio was back to rambling away, only pausing to drink from his beverage. France glared at him through a blurry haze as everything seemed to be moving, words unknowingly spilling from his lips.

"At least my little brother isn't overshadowing me."

A growl rose from the depths of Gilbert's throat as he dropped his arm. Anger played with the alcohol in his system making it a full blown fury. He didn't know what made him outraged, did not know what turned his good mood sour. It certainly wasn't the words because he loved his_ bruder_, at least he thinks it wasn't the words.

"At least I don't prey on small children, you perverted frog."

Prussia's cheeks grew hot as his annoyance climbed to new heights. A pale lithe hand rested on the blonde haired nation's chest in mock hurt.

"I am hurt you would say that, _Mon ami_," Francis said with sorrow. "What makes you say that?"

"Really, your just going to ignore the fact you practically molested America and Romano when they were little with your eyes as drool ran down your chin."

A shout came from behind them as enameled olive green eyes stared at them. They turned their attentions to an angered Spain. He puffed out his cheeks before he threw the can in his hand at Francis's head.

"No one touches my little Lovino, but me! Do you understand!" he hissed. The two standing nations sighed before glaring at one another again. Just as they were about to start up their argument Antonio threw a pillow. Prussia rolled his eyes at the angered Spaniard.

"We understand." They replied in unison. Gilbert was about to sit on the couch and finish the last remains of his beer, but stopped at the mumbled words that escaped the Frenchman's mouth.

"At least my_ amours _are healthy ones, my dear friend."

He stomped over to Francis before grabbing his shirt collar with both hands. More beer spilled from his can and onto the white carpet as it landed with a soft thud. Gilbert vaguely thought about how angry his brother was going to be. Lips pulled back in a snarl as he growled in the other's flushed face.

"What the fuck is that suppose to mean?"

"I am taking about your love for I-"

"SHUT. YOUR. MOUTH. RIGHT. NOW."

"Awww, what is wrong,_ Mon ami_?," The Frenchman chuckled at the threatening loud words. "Don't want anyone to know. Why not? Are you ashamed?"

Prussia released the other as he flipped him off and turned his back. His heart was pounding in his chest at the slim chance his secret was exposed. The air around him was closing in, suffocating him as unnecessary panic settled in. After a moment he found words that didn't stick in his throat.

"I am not ashamed of anything."

"Hmm, then afraid maybe. I know I would be."

The Prussian opened his mouth to shout 'Fuck you', but decided against it. He really didn't need a drunk France after him because he took those words to heart. Shaking his head he turned around and poked the other hard in the chest.

"I am not afraid of anything either," He paused briefly. "Unlike you."

Glaring at each other silence fell upon the room, anger swirled in the air in thick waves. Spain watched the tense nations in mild amusement. Olive green eyes watched a slim arm lift into the air before the fist at the end connected with Prussia's jaw. The Prussian fell down on his backside laughing madly.

"You hit like the girl you are France."

The next twenty minutes consisted of the two nations rolling on the ground. Punches and kicks were thrown at odd angles. Spain was almost positive that he saw Gilbert bite their blonde friend on the shoulder at one point. Everything was in chaos as voices yelled insults.

"At least I don't bitch like one and can win battles without help from a younger brother."

"Fuck you, I won more wars by myself then you have in your entire life."

"I bet you can't do a damn thing without him nowadays."

"That's not true I can kick your ass any day, because I am stronger than you."

"You wanna bet."

"Hell yeah."

They stopped fighting when Prussia sat on top of Francis. Both were panting hard from the exertions and yelling. When he was sure everything was settled and as calm as it would get Antonio spoke up.

"Why don't you two see who can move that piano the furthest."

A tan finger pointed to a white piano covered with beer cans in the corner of the room. They both stood hurriedly and decided on who would go first. At that moment in time they didn't care how stupid the suggestion was or how everything around them was trashed. All that matter was the anger rushing in them and the alcohol intensifying those feelings.

He looked at the stained carpet once more thinking about how Ludwig would be pissed, but that didn't matter because he had proved the blonde Frenchman wrong. Not to mention got a nice bonus when he saw Austria's frustrated confused expression. It was even worth the hours and hours of lecturing he got and the hour it took to get the stains out of the carpet. His arms had been sore for quite a while after word. Yet all these memories didn't help the bitter feeling stirring inside him now.

He couldn't believe that France of all people would do this to him, but then again it was probably Francis's boss that had ordered this act. Even so the Prussian was going to completely ignore the Frenchman until he apologized. Or bought him some beer because this was ridiculous.

That _arschloch _knew he hated the Russian bastard, despised the cold Empire. Francis knew his blood boiled with pure unadulterated hatred of the ever smiling nation. Gilbert grinded his teeth together as he was slowly buried by the falling snow. Faintly he heard the soft crunch of approaching footsteps, but he was to lost in his anger to care.

_'Screw Francis,' _Gilbert thought. _'He's going to have to grovel at my feet with a tower of beer cases surrounding him to make up for this.'_

Yet with all of his complaining he knew he could never fully blame the blonde nation. This deal he had with Russia was just a part of war and France's boss had ordered the pact.

_'Still he can go fuck himself.'_

Scratch that he probably all ready did. The Frenchman probably had Arthur work his magic by creating a clone of himself. Maybe even took a version of himself from the past. Maybe _'he can go fuck himself' _was too much of an invitation.

"I hope he can't get it up for a year," Gilbert mumbled. "Better yet as long as this war last."

A frown was etched on his lips as the footsteps stopped. Snowflakes were blocked by the frame looming above him causing a shadow to fall across his body. He heard a small chuckle overhead as he rolled over onto his side again. Blood from his wounds warmed the snow around him yet it was not enough to push the cold away completely. Prussia wanted to rip the taller nation's vocal cords out and strangle him with his own scarf. But he just lay there hoping, for once, to be ignored.

As unawesome as that was the bullet wounds in his leg and side were making all the decisions now. A dull pain radiated from the wounds as he took in soft breathes. It was fine as long as he didn't move, so long as he remained still it wouldn't hurt like a bitch. Gloved fingers stroked his damp bloody white locks. Pain was tingling through his entire body and as most of the adrenaline sobered from his system the pain increased.

It wasn't anything he could not handle for he was a nation after all. These cuts and bruises were nothing compared to some of the wounds in his past. In fact the thing that hurt most was the hole in his side. Gilbert could still feel the bullet lodged in his flesh. Could feel it tear even more muscle every time it was jolted.

Eyelids closed over crimson eyes as that hand continued to massage his scalp. Anger and hate rose inside the albino yet his heart made a weird fluttering beat. Quickly he dismissed it as being a side affect to the pain and blood loss. There was no way that feeling was acting up after all these years.

"Francis is definitely going to get castrated." The Prussian said quietly. Another small chuckle was heard from above him. The fingers in his hair tighten around a couple strands making red eyes open.

"Are you going crazy, Gilbert?" The Russian asked. "It seems like you are with the way you keep mumbling about down there."

He giggled as he poked the Prussian in the cheek. Fatigue was becoming stronger as more blood drained from his wounds. Gilbert didn't know what to do as his thoughts started to cloud over and scatter. Glaring at the taller nation a growl left his lips.

"The only crazy one here is you, stupid Russian bastard!" Prussia snapped. Angrily he slapped the hand petting his head away. Frustration clawed at his insides, helplessness was not a feeling the albino liked especially with Russia creeping around. Those violet eyes narrowed slightly as the air around the two nations grew thick.

The night sky was covered with light grey clouds. It seemed the moon was un-naturally bright tonight as those clouds glowed illuminating the quiet battlefield. That infuriating smile widen as the hand that was slapped return the favor. Prussia's cheek turned red from the impact and his rage exploded.

With a hiss of pain he launched himself at the Russian, tackling the other nation to the ground. He landed with his legs on either side of the taller nation, straddling his waist. Agony shot through the bullet wounds as the flesh was jostled, but he ignored it. Choosing to focus on his fists hitting the Russian's face. He felt the ever smiling nation's lip split. Felt blood smear his own gloved hands yet Russia was still smiling. Even when more flesh ripped and bruises formed.

Gilbert was enjoying this; the physical pain that was evident on the Russian's face, but that smile. That simple stretch of lips pushed him on. The Prussian wanted to wipe that smirk off those pale bleeding lips. A twisted sort of laughter escaped the taller nation's mouth. It pissed Prussia off even more and made him punch even harder.

Rage just sky rocketed through his lithe frame. The wall locking away his hidden emotions crash down as he did the only thing he could think of. All these memories he tried to push away arose with the breaking of the wall. Memories of the times he picked on Russia as a child. Times were the other nation took away parts of his land, his body. Even the short times where they were allies fueled his rage.

Gilbert felt hot warm blood run down his side like a small waterfall. In the back of his mind the Prussian knew he needed to get it treated. He wondered if it would ever stop bleeding. The laughter grew louder in Prussia's ears drowning out the rest of his thoughts. Each punch began to slow as a gloved hand traveled up his thigh.

He became very aware of Russia's touch as fleeting fingertips created a warm pins and needles sensation. Crimson eyes looked down at the taller nation's bloody face. A cut on his high cheek bone was bleeding profusely as well as the cut on the right side of his scalp. Soft lips were stained red and so was Russia's teeth as that smile stayed. Gilbert froze as he stared into ferocious violet eyes.

Fingers reached the bullet hole in his thigh and played with the frayed edges of his pants. He knew what was about to happen the moment they reached the edge of the wound. Sucking in a sharp breath the albino calmed his body as white hot pain danced on his nerves. Russia dug his finger in the hole, he found joy in causing the Prussian pain.

Red eyes glazed over as their owner panted from the sharp spasms. Prussia grinded his teeth together as his hands gripped the taller nation's scarf. He could hear the fabric rip slightly as he tightens his hold with each wave of torture. Glaring down with as much force as he could Gilbert spoke.

"You...fucking...bastard."

His voice was breathy and soft as it floated in the wind. Ivan just smiled as he dug his finger in deeper. Blood oozed out of the wound as squelching sounds echoed around them. He clenched his teeth, hissing in torment as he closed his eyes. Cold sweat beaded along his almost translucent flesh. The throbbing burn was so intense that he didn't even notice the Russian turning him on his back.

White.

Pink.

Red.

Dark red.

Those colors made a gory bloody mosaic around them. Gilbert heard the rustling of clothing above him as the pain briefly stopped. Taking the chance he took in deep breaths, trying to calm his body. Opening his eyes slightly the Prussian watched as the taller nation tipped his head back and deeply drank from a silver flask. Violet orbs gazed at Prussia as the albino stared back. An idea popped into Russia's mind as he stared at the sweaty, bloody, panting mess that was the Kingdom of Prussia.

Removing his finger from the bullet wound he leaned forward. Taking his bloody appendage he drew a halo above Prussia's head, creating a picture of a broken angel. Something cold and wet painted a path on his cheek as the Russian chuckled. Hazy blood red eyes attempted to glare at him.

_'Gott I hate him and his laugh.'_

The gloved finger trailed along his lower lip causing his muscles to tense with a repressed shudder. A metallic irony taste teased Gilbert's tongue as the appendage slid past his lips. Ivan smiled down at him, maneuvering his body so he was sitting on top of the red eyed nation.

"Are you thirsty, Gilbert?"

Pushing his finger in further he forced Prussia's mouth open. A fire burned brighter in his eyes as he instantly bit down. More blood stained the inside of his mouth as the albino broke through leather and flesh. The taller nation lost his smile, a frown etching its way onto his lips as violet eyes narrowed. He tried to pull his finger out which only caused Gilbert to bite down harder.

Setting down his flask Russia roughly gripped the Prussian's chin. A trail of blood ran down the corner of his mouth. Nails ripped through the glove and cut his flesh. Sharp pain numbed his jaw, but he still bite down harder. Russia quickly became impatient as he moved his knee on top of a lithe thigh. More crimson life essence stained his pants.

Prussia screamed a loud earsplitting cry as the taller nation rammed his knee down on the bullet wound. Taking out his finger Ivan squeezed the albino's cheek effectively keeping the other's mouth open. Those beautiful ruby eyes were closed in pain, heavy pants passed blood stained lips. The Russian could see the red painting Prussia's mouth, inviting him to try a taste.

Leaning down he stuck out his tongue making sure he had a good grip on the other's chin. The grip was tighten into a bruising force as he pushed his moist appendage in the wet bloody craven below. In one slow lick Ivan ran his tongue along the roof of the red eyed nation's mouth. He gave a low moan as he pulled back, eyes shining and lips smiling. The Prussian eyes were wide with shock as his breath slowly calmed. Shaking the other's head back and forth Russia used his free hand to pick up his silver flask.

"You are ready for your drink now, comrade?"

Pulling the top off with his teeth the taller nation poured the clear liquid down Gilbert's throat. Grinning wider and lightly giggling he couldn't wait to taste that craven again. It was so addicting the first time with its spicy, sugary taste. Ivan could not wait to see how much better it would be with vodka in the mix.

Prussia tried to move his head so he could breathe. Clear and pink liquid sputtered out of his mouth spraying their faces and soaked the snow. His throat burned as the alcohol traveled down his esophagus. Ivan stopped pouring his precious vodka into his victim, saving some for himself. The red eyed nation's breath hitched as Russia licked the alcohol off his face.

Sitting up he replaced his leg on the ground and off the other's bullet wound. Placing the cold container to his mouth he proceeded to drink the rest. Taking his eyes off the Prussian for just a second was a mistake as he did not count on the other fighting back. An uninjured knee slammed hard in to his back. Jerking forward Russia held out his hands to break his fall, dropping his vodka. Another frown marred his face as violet orbs watched the clear liquid spill on the snow.

Straightening himself up Ivan punched the other in the face. Prussia's head snapped to the left from the force. Glaring at the Russian he spit a glob of blood and saliva at him. It landed with a wet smack on his left cheek before trailing down in a slow sickening manner. Violet orbs narrowed dangerously as a cruel smirk twisted his lips.

The taller nation trailed a hand down his chest creating a winding path down Prussia's body. Reaching the wound in his side Ivan swiftly rammed a finger into the hole. Gilbert screamed as once again he was subjected to the torture that surged through his system as a white hot pain. Wiggling the appendage around Russia forced his finger all the way in. He could even feel the hard end of the bullet that was still lodged in the albino's side.

Amusement returned to his silent raging eyes as he watched the other wither in agony. Eyelids were closed and scrunched up tight as beads of cold sweat broke out on sheet white skin. Gilbert's mouth was hanging open as he heavily panted. The lithe body under Ivan shook with tremors as hands clenched the snow. Using his free hand the taller nation gripped the other's chin.

Through the haze of pain Prussia could still fell the ice bitten touch of Russia. Warm breath washed over his face before a pair of chilling lips caressed his own. The albino's emotions were acting up again as the contrast between the cold and warmth had him moaning under his breath. Silently he hoped the Russian above hadn't heard or felt it. Squeezing his eyes shut even tighter the Prussian attempted to close his mouth, but Ivan was quicker.

Gripping the other's chin in another bruising grip he removed the finger in the other's bullet wound before replacing it between a pair of jaws while slipping his tongue inside. There was no doubt in the taller nation's mind as he re-tasted that spicy, sugary craven. Vodka made it taste ten times better. Yet what made it simply irresistible was the tiny moan that escaped the red eyed nation. Prussia could feel the smirk growing against his lips.

He cursed himself knowing that Ivan had in fact heard him moan. In an attempt to regain and keep the rest of his awesomeness Gilbert bit down again. More blood flowed into his mouth as he tired to resist. But no matter how hard he bit down the Prussian could not reach the invading wet muscle that was currently wrapped around his own. In fact the only thing it seemed he did accomplish was excite the Russian more. The metallic taste that invaded their taste buds had Ivan roughly lapping up the crimson elixir as well as bruising the albino's lips.

It lasted for a few more moments, moments in which Prussia tried to breathe through his nose and tried not to choke on the blood sloshing around in his mouth. Pulling back Russia remembered to return the favor by biting the smaller nation's bottom lip. As warm red blood escaped the hole now present in Gilbert's lip he could not deny the taste. It was without a doubt the second best thing to vodka.

He sucked on the wound trying to get more of that red liquor. Frantic pants turned into hissing gasps. Lifting one of his legs the taller nation placed it in between the Prussian's lithe thighs and rubbed it against Gilbert's crotch were a slight bulge was forming.

"Aaah."

Prussia threw his head back as a breathy moan slipped into the cold night air. Ivan chuckled as he took the opportunity to remove his finger still locked in the bloody craven. With the limited freedom allowed the Prussian turned his head to the side. He attempted to spit and cough out most of the blood in his mouth. A line of red ran down his chin from the hole the other had bitten into his flesh. Bringing his lips to Gilbert's ear the taller nation spoke in a sensual whisper.

"You taste good, Gilbert."

The albino growled in retaliation yet didn't move, did not act. It was the only thing he could do with the Russian on top of him and his energy slowly leaving with his draining blood. Eyelids fluttered over ruby eyes as a tongue caressed his ear. Pleasure languidly passed through his nimble frame as Gilbert felt hands running down his clothed body.

Was it so bad to enjoy this?

Was it so awful to let this continue?

Was it so horrible to use this as a way of relieving some of the tension his unwanted emotions caused within him?

There was no second guessing, thinking, or hesitating as the answers to those questions came to the forefront of his mind. Yes. Yes to all of those inquiries. Yet the one question that was screaming at him the most to deny this was the one were he would be using the Russian just as much as he was using him. Gilbert knew that if he used this to relieve some of the tension inside, it would only lead to him greatly regretting it.

Deep down the red eyed nation knew nothing would be solved and the result would cause him to sink deeper into his despair. He shivered as the freezing winds brushed bare skin. Cold leather pet his stomach as soft lips kissed his cheek. Red eyes looked down and saw that while he had been thinking Russia had unbuttoned his jacket and shirt.

Teeth nipped at the Prussian's jawbone causing his breath to hitch in his throat. Wet red smears tainted his pale skin creating a crimson painting. The knee pressed to his groin slowly rubbed against his nether regions. Biting his lip Prussia held back his moans as much as he could. Scarlet eyes were glazed over in pleasure, pain, and blood loss.

In the back of his mind the white haired nation knew he should be worried about the amount of blood he was losing. Yet the pleasure he was receiving made any rational thought disappear. A tongue licked lines on his neck while fingers tweaked a nipple. Gasping he gripped white and red snow in a clenched fist.

Peering through heavy lidded eyes he watched Ivan lift his head. Tremors ran down his spine, tremors form the cold as well as the sensual touching heating him up. Looking into the albino's eyes for a brief moment Russia proceeded to kiss supple lips. Closing his eyes fully the smaller nation kissed back. This bliss felt to good to pass up as it muddled his thoughts and created a warmth that made his skin tingle.

Maybe it was the blood loss making him more vulnerable. Maybe it was this pleasant warmth or chilly pain fogging his mind. Maybe it was his unwanted emotions finally overloading his senses. Either way it did not matter because Prussia was succumbing to every touch and caress. He didn't care about the consequences coming at the end anymore because willing or not they would have come. Gilbert just did not care anymore, he didn't _want _to care.

Besides you can't rape the willing, so why not give in and dampen the Russian's mood even more. As he felt that wet muscle trace his lips the red eyed nation parted them. Ivan slowly mapped out the warm craven, savoring the addicting flavor. Tangling his tongue with the other they fought for control. Prussia leisurely while the taller nation was rough.

Cutting the Prussian's lip even more as he gnashed his teeth against flesh Russia won the battle. The pain was an anchor that kept the albino grounded. Of course he always knew that pain and pleasure would go hand in hand with Ivan. Fingers played with the waistband of his pants causing a whimper to escape into the kiss.

Vodka exploded all over his sensitive taste buds. Everywhere he licked and was licked in return; everywhere Ivan explored his mouth, a trail of vodka was not far behind. It burned like it was still fresh yet a mix of spices broke through as an underlying taste. Prussia tried, as he fought back, to find that zest. To bring it forth so he could taste Russia's real flavor.

_'Its all that damn vodka's fault.' _Prussia thought.

If that Russian bastard hadn't down all that alcohol, had not poured it in his mouth than the pure flavor of Russia would of tainted his taste buds. Gilbert felt his hand grip sandy blonde locks. The light weight of his belt buckle was lifted as the tight constriction of his pants were also unbuttoned. Fingers played along his erection like they would caress piano keys.

"Nnngh."

Prussia pulled away from cold lips with a groan. He involuntarily bucked his hips into Ivan's hand causing a rough friction to spike jolts of electricity through his veins. Icy lips were reattached to his own as the albino pulled the taller nation closer. Harsh winds nipped at his skin making a sharp contrast to the burning warmth within. Yet that cold disappeared with his surroundings.

Gilbert became lost in Russia.

Lost in his touch.

Lost in his smell.

Lost in his taste.

Giving in was the worse thing he could do, he kept telling himself. Giving in was giving up. He felt, with every touch from Ivan, his love bloom. Always loving the Russian from afar was not impossible anymore as their bodies moved together. Yearning for his touch from miles away was finally going to be rewarded if only for just this one night. Finally he was going to be given his bounty and the tension was going to disappear for a little time. He knew the moment they parted his relief was going to crumble into a black hole of pain.

Red eyes became distant as he thought of their short meetings. Ever since they first met as kids he wanted to be close to the struggling nation. He even went so far as to pick on the poor child because of the pull the other had on him. Gilbert could clearly recall the moment his heart imploded with the beginnings of this torture.

It was during the Seven Years' War or more accurately the Third Silesian War. During the chaos of battle that had him transfixed on the Russian whenever he could turn around. Every time red eyes watched the other elegantly dance to the rhythm of war his heart beat faster. He was mesmerized by the way Ivan twirled to strike down his enemies all around. Stunned into paralyzation as Russia swung his sword with perfect precision.

Crimson orbs watched blood fall down around him like rain. Even that scarf he always wore kept Prussia's attention as it spun around like a spider spinning its web. That war created attraction and their alliance toward the end created love for him. Those long years of seeing Russia over and over again from afar drew him in even more. Short conversations between the two made the emotions deeper as the albino grew attached to the other's voice.

Gilbert always looked forward to seeing those glittering violet eyes and that ever present smile even though a lot of the times it wasn't real. A feeling inside caused the Prussian to want to make that smile real, genuine. Though he was so sure he never accomplish that. A harsh bite to the red eyed nation's lips had him groaning and slipping his eyes shut.

"_Nyet_, no going anywhere." Russia said.

That burning pain was back as the taller nation played with the bullet wound again. Trailing soft lips along porcelain skin as Russia latched onto a bit of flesh just under a stubborn jaw. Rolling the flesh between his teeth Ivan lightly nipped and sucked. Pleasure overrode the agony shooting through his thigh. Gasps erupted out of the Prussian's blue tinted lips.

He withered, shivered under the assault. Those sinful lips moved down to a new spot just under his collarbone. A throbbing burn bloomed on Prussia's neck as teeth sank deeply into flesh. Crimson stained more white as the Russian continued to bite into the soft neck trapped in his jaws.

"Nnngh...Haaah."

Moaning loudly Gilbert lifted his hands to tightly gripped Ivan's coat. Hips bucked in an attempt to create more friction. A warm wet muscle lapped up the red stream. Russia groaned at the taste before biting the front of that slim column. This time it was nothing more than a playful nip as he sucked on the same spot.

Squeezing his eyes shut tight in pleasure the albino shuddered as the sucks became an ache. It was so painful that with each suck it felt like his skin was splitting open. Yet it was a good pain that turned him into a shuddering, thrashing mess. Gilbert panted heavily unable to catch his breath.

Involuntarily his good leg wrapped around Ivan's hips using it as leverage to grind their arousals together. Both groaned at the delicious friction shooting flames through their systems. Fingers dug into Prussia's hip as Russia gave one last hard suck.

The albino groaned in a low tone before opening hazy glossy eyes. They stared at deep violet orbs that were covered with multiple layers of lust. Ghosting his fingers along the taller nation's spine he could feel his expression softening. Those appendages flittered through saw colored locks before resting on the other's cheeks. Confusion played with the lust in Ivan's eyes as a somberness entered Prussia's own red orbs.

A thumb slowly caressed the Russian's cheekbones. Gilbert stared at the other, memorizing every feature and plain of the other nation's face. Silently he wished that the gloves covering his hands were gone. He wanted to feel skin against his own flesh. Pulling Russia down slowly the albino tenderly kissed him. A soft kiss that was devoid of violence and a sense of hurry, a tender chaste kiss that conveyed emotions better left unsaid.

Shock had taken over Ivan's face as a buried warmth he never felt before spread through his body. There was a strong feeling of wrong that held him back from melting into the Prussian's touches, held him from kissing back. But the taller nation let Gilbert do what he wanted at the moment. Russia let those lithe hands caress his cheeks and allowed those soft lips to massage his own until they departed.

Sorrow was brewing deeply in Prussia as he pulled away. Disappointment sang strongly inside yet he wasn't surprised. The albino never expected Ivan to respond to such a kiss, but he still hoped. Casting his eyes to the side Gilbert refused to look at the other. He didn't trust the emotions swirling in his eyes and it did not help that he was fighting back unwanted tears.

Fingers still brushed the Russian's cheeks unwilling to let that warmth go. Prussia almost jumped when he felt fingers touch his neck. The skin underneath felt slightly sore making him guess that Ivan was petting the marks all over his skin. Perfect pale flesh was littered with dark reddish-purple marks.

_So much claim._

Stroking those marks the taller nation felt that strange warmth grow hotter. He had put so much claim on the flawless albino, had marked and covered the ethereal being that lay under him in the most fitting colors. Red, no matter what shade, always looked best on the Kingdom of Prussia. Even the deep purple was blending well. Ivan had to wonder briefly why he had marked the other nation so deeply.

Those warm hands massaging his cheeks drifted away. Cold assaulted the heated flesh causing a shiver to ran down Gilbert's spine. Violet eyes watched as the Prussian covered his eyes with one arm while the other rested above his head. Just like the tender kiss this scene felt wrong. All the usual stubborn arrogance the albino carried and displayed was gone, but it seemed a somberness and vulnerability took its place. As well as a sense that Gilbert was hiding or at least trying to.

Pulling a hand away from the red eyed nation's hips Russia brushed the arm covering red eyes before lightly running fingers through damp white locks. It felt so good to have those fingers running through his hair again that Prussia allowed it. Yet he did not move nor did he speak. He rested there like a stone statue hoping, even though he should know better by now, that the Russian would get bored and leave.

The strong winter winds sucked the heat from the albino's exposed flesh yet he still felt warm inside. Gilbert was already hating himself for giving in and showing more emotion than he wanted. A soft voice empty of its usual amused tone echoed around him.

"_Prussiya_."

A pang of sadness ticked off in his heart. A pang so strong that he was sure his capitol experienced a small earthquake. Gilbert didn't understand why he had that powerful sting shaking his heart and he most certainly did not understand why it still hurt.

Was it because Ivan had called him by his nation name instead of his human name?

Or was it because it seemed much more intimate to have his name be called in the other's language?

Burying his face in his arm more Prussia felt a tear slip from his eye. He could feel it wash away some of the blood stains on his pale cheek. Unknowingly, or maybe it was, the Russian wiped it away with a gentle caress from his thumb.

"_Prussiya_."

Another earthquake tore at his heart while a fierce anger roared to life.

"_Ich hasse dich_." Gilbert hissed in a low tone. Leaning down the taller nation tried to remove the arm covering that fair face. The Prussian used all of his strength to keep his face covered. It took a few attempts to make Russia give up, but in the end Prussia wondered how differently this would have played out if he just given in.

Soft lips ghosted his ear sending shivers through out his form. The cold coating the albino was gone, replaced by the Russian's warmth as he covered him with his own body. Fingers once again pet his snow white hair. It was almost like Ivan knew that gesture calmed him down.

"You have to speak up, _Prussiya_."

Gilbert felt sorry for his people, the ones living in Königsberg, his heart. He hated the thought of how it might look right now. How buildings, peoples' homes, might have crumpled under the strain. Earthquakes kept ripping through his heart each and every time Russia called his name in Russian. Yet pleasure wrecked his body as gloved fingers gave one long leisured stroke to his half-harden member. The pleasure that was re-entwining in his system was fogging up his mind. It didn't stop the Prussian, did not stop him from repeating his words.

"_Ich Hasse Dich_!" Gilbert hissed again. Even though it hurt he bit his lip to hold back his gasps and moans.

"Now_ Prussiya _if you want me to hear you, you'll have to speak up."

It was so strong this time that the pain made him shake. Anger rose so high it was the only fire warming him from the inside. Prussia growled low in his throat and it rang out loudly. Adrenaline pushed as pain and pleasure were forgotten. Gilbert pushed at the taller nation, shoved until he had the Russian on his back and the albino now sat on his hips.

Surprise had entered Ivan's features at this new resolve. He thought he had almost broken the stubborn nation. A fist hit the Russian in the jaw causing his head to whipped to the side. Another punch surely blacken his eye.

"_ICH HASSE DICH!_," Gilbert screamed with each punch."_ICH HASSE DICH, RUSSLAND!_"

Those words flittered though his ears as hands grabbed his jacket. The next thing that crossed Ivan's vision was beautiful. Ruby eyes shone like crimson blood glittering in the sun. Damp white locks stained red, and in some places blended in to pink, were disheveled like a lion's mane. Blood splattered that pale porcelain face like a cracked mirror. That same crimson liquor painted supple lips like a woman's lip stain.

A fire was burning so brightly in those red eyes. A fire made from the deepest, most gorgeous depths of anger. It was what made those fascinating scarlet orbs glow like the full moon dyed red. Russia smiled widely as he lifted a hand to painted cheeks. Rubbing a thumb over high cheekbones the taller nation leaned forward.

Slowly he licked away some of the blood. The fist clenching his jacket jerked his body away so their eyes locked together again. This time it was Prussia who leaned forward with a soft pleading look melting into his eyes. Lips brushed against each other as breaths mingled.

"_Ich hasse Russland_." He mumbled quietly. Gilbert repeated it over and over again, repeated them in his mind and out loud like a mantra. It was a last desperate attempt to make those words true. The smile that stretched the taller nation's lips fell into a frown as Russia almost growled at those words. Moving that caressing hand down warm flesh the Russian curled fingers around a taut jaw before giving a rough jerk.

The albino had his lips snarling like a wolf as he bared his teeth. A growl escaped his own throat in a low menacing manner as he refused the commanding gesture. Those fingers tighten around that stubborn jaw in a painful force that felt like it was crushing bone. Hearing that sound made a dangerous look sparked fireworks in violet eyes.

"I do not speak that disgusting language, Gilbert." Ivan said in a sharp harsh tone. The growls grew louder before the albino launched forward. Teeth sank into soft flesh as Prussia bit into the other's bottom lip. His anger ran so hot that if it was turning logs to ash he was sure the flames would be a mixture of white and blue.

_'How dare he!' _Gilbert thought.

Of all the things he could of said, he could of done, that was the worst. His heart had another quake as pain ripped through him. How could the Russian bastard insult him like that? How could the other say something like that, slander a part of himself? Prussia closed his eyes not wanting to look at the taller nation and possibly have him see in the pain floating in his red orbs. Biting his lip he thought of how stupid, pointless these questions he was asking himself were.

Gilbert always knew how cruel Russia could be and no matter how hard he tried he could never bring himself to blame the other for being that way. He squeezed his eyes tighter and bit his lip harder as he pulled away. Leaning toward Russia's ear the red eyed nation whispered calm words.

"I hate you, Russia."

The frown uplifted on Ivan's face as it turned into his ever present smile. Agony erupted in the albino's stomach as a fist punched him in the gut. His breath rushed out in a sudden gasp as the bullet wound shuddered in torture. All the strength left his body as he fell limp against Russia. Nothing but shaking pants left Gilbert's lips once he caught his breath.

In a few moments the Prussian found himself on his back with the cold snow soaking into his blue uniform. Agony was written all over his pale face. Torment was surrounding him from every angle, especially inside. The smaller nation tried to curl in on himself to lessen the pain, but Ivan crawled on top of him preventing it. Once again he found a mouth nestled by his ear.

"Is that so, _Prussiya_," Russia said. "Well let me see if I can change your mind, _da_?"

The taller nation removed his gloved before placing them on the snow beside them. Red eyes watched it play out in slow motion as an ominous feel followed this action. Warm yet cold fingers weaved intricate patterns on his bare flesh. Nails raked down his chest, sore stomach, and sides lovingly. A gasp of pleasure tore through the air. Flesh quivered under tainted hands and with each touch Prussia felt as if a bullet had lodged itself inside his heart as well. A tongue lapping at his cheeks washed away the few tears that escaped without his knowledge.

"Why are you crying, Gilbert?"

Ivan words were nothing, but puffs of hot breath against his skin. The albino turned away hoping not to shame himself further. He spoke no words that would do the same and come out quaking. In an odd sort of dissociating moment Gilbert saw that the snowflakes had grown larger as they floated down faster. The fell around them like faux snow in a snow globe.

_'If the circumstances were different,' _He thought, then he might have enjoyed this and reveled in the pleasure. Prussia laughed bitterly at his thoughts. _'I'm just a spoil of war.' _The albino continued with a sneer. _'Not even that, just a fleeting object of entertainment in one of many battles.'_

Lips crashed down on his own, bringing him out of his bitter somber mind. As a tongue re-mapped his mouth a hand moved down a lithe side before it was replaced on his arousal. How many others has he done this with? How many other nations has he invaded? Were they even enemies? Was this also his way of sealing a deal, a promise?

An anger born from jealousy and hate aroused the flickering flames. Did that mean the deal Russia had made to France. The very deal that lead to his land being invaded and his current situation. Was this deal sealed in a bed? That was it the next time he saw France he was going to punch first and ask questions later, if the questions even came at all.

Those soft vodka flavored lips left and without his consent his body reacted to the lost of that much wanted contact. A whimper fell from the albino's lips as he opened his clouded orbs. While Ivan pulled away he followed trying to recapture those sweet lips. Yet no matter how far he followed the Russian kept pulling back; always leaving a few inches between them.

Fingers gripped the white locks spurting from the back of his head. A heard stroke to the Prussian's hardening member had him moaning low in his throat. He barely registered the harsh yank that forced his head back and exposed his lithe marked neck. Gilbert shivered as a ghosting touch skimmed his painted flesh. A warm wet muscle lick a damp path up the multi-colored column.

His form withered under the pressure of those sensual touches. Teeth nipped as his collarbone as a gasp ripped its way out of him. The fingers in his hair stopped their harsh grip; each one becoming gentle as they ran through clumped white strands. Once again Prussia threw an arm over his heavy lidded eyes swimming in lust. Melting them into liquid pools of warm blood.

Russia pulled away from the addicting flavor of the albino's skin. A whimper fell from the panting mouth above him as the contact disappeared. It took awhile to calm his breathing down from the quick onslaught of bliss. Slowly the Prussian peeked out from under his arm to stare at the grinning Russian.

"Why won't you answer me Gilbert?" Ivan stroked a cold wet cheek, his grin turning to a soft smile as the smaller nation instantly nuzzled his hand. "Will you answer me, please."

He shouldn't fall for it. Prussia should bot fall for the fake sadness in those violet eyes. Should not fall for the fake hurt laced in those words. He shook his head answering 'No' to Russia's question. There was no way he was going to give in to the other nation. Gilbert whimpered again as he covered his eyes. Never in his life had he gone through so much torture.

Sure battles had been fought, won and lost. Bones had been broken, flesh torn, and his mind had been fucked with. He had been taken as a prisoner, tormented like one too. There was even a time he was stabbed with a hot fire iron. All of those wounds hurt, they scorched his body like molten lava creating the purest agony. Yet this, this wound in his heart brought him to his knees and haunted him every second of every day. It drew a waterfall of tears to his ruby eyes in a matter of seconds. This wound made him burn with the flames of hell.

Ivan nipped his nose to bring him back from the black hole that was his damning thoughts. That sad look on the Russian's face sank a level deeper into sorrow. Gilbert pushed his face deeper into his arm wanting to just disappear from everything.

"_Prussiya_."

That god awful name pierced the silence in an agonizingly sad note only he could hear. "_Nein_" was whispered back in a hoarse, defeated voice as a torrent of tears threaten to fall. That was all the Prussian needed to happen now that the other had him molded into his grasp. Russia felt a pang dance across his chest causing him to quickly look down and make sure his heart had not fallen from his chest. The taller nation shook his head to brush the feeling away in favor of continuing his game.

Prussia's icy lips were warmed as he was kissed. Soft lips were pliable under the taller nation's as they meshed together with a strong feeling of perfect completion. Hands roamed the albino's chest as hips ground into his erection. He moaned softly allowing the other nation entrance unintentionally. Teeth nipped his lips as tongues danced sinfully together.

Gloved hands gripped sandy locks as the arm covering Gilbert's face was removed. Fingers trailed down to a covered neck before climbing down broad shoulders. Prussia pulled away from the gentle coaxing kiss. Glazed emotional red met piercing lust covered violet. Nimble appendages began to unbutton the long tan coat, slowly opening the warm bulky cloth. He didn't even attempt to take it off completely already knowing that to be a wasted effort.

Instead he focused on the next obstacle in his way, a white dress shirt. The buttons were unfastened quicker this time as fingers itched with need. As soon as pale flesh was in his red sight those hands roamed all over the tone planes. Soft kisses littered his cheek, jaw, and neck. Light moans and whimpers fell freely from bruised lips.

Gilbert's head spun with the dizzying pleasure and blood loss. Teeth bit his earlobe gently before a tongue trailed along the shell. Breath hitching the Prussian gasped as hot air cooled the moist line.

"Please, _Krolik_." Russia pleaded.

He gave a soft moan in response unsure of what was being asked of him. Hips bucked into the hand that began stroking him slowly, begging for a faster pace. Those tantalizing lips lightly brushed his cheek before hovering over his red stained mouth. A smile stretched them thin as violet eyes sparkled. Any trace of the fake sorrow was gone the moment he started to give in to the rough advances.

Prussia rode out the pain ripping through his heart by biting the inside of his cheek and bucking his hips again. Long fingers trailed along his waistband as that hand left his arousal. Cold air hitting the damp spot on his boxers caused a shiver to run down his spine as the red eyed nation whimpered. Sweat beaded along the Prussian's skin despite the cold. The few snowflakes that passed the tall frame above him melted on his heated skin.

Filled to the brim with lust and devoid of all reasons Prussia sat up. Using his elbows to hold his weight the red eyed nation rested his forehead against Ivan's own. Scarlet orbs closed as he trailed gloved hands along a bare toned chest. That warm safe feeling bloomed throughout his body as a large hand caressed his lower back. Inhaling a deep shaky breath the albino lightly, but forcibly pushed the taller nation down.

Ivan didn't know why, he could not come up with a reason why he allowed this. But just like the chaste sweet kiss, the Russian allowed the stubborn man to do as he pleased. The blood stained snow crunched under his body and soaked his coat more than the snowflakes had. Scalding hot breath made his skin tingle.

Russia sat back on his elbows as he refused to lay fully on his back. This was his game and there was no way he was going to be forced into a vulnerable position. A warm wet tongue licked at his torso like a kitten lapping at milk. Fingers gripped at Ivan's belt, tugging on the leather accessory. Gilbert nipped at the cold skin above the other's navel. His focus was divided between the frigid hand, that had slipped under his open clothes, to stroke his heated flesh and his silent self goal.

Lithe fingers trembled with pleasure as they unbuckled the taller nation's belt. He dipped his tongue into Russia's navel causing a tremor to run down the other's spine. Ghosting his breath over the taller nation's arousal Prussia arched his back into the Russian's hand. A moan slipped his lips as a knee rubbed against his own erection. Crimson eyes were shut in pleasure as he traced the waistline of Ivan's pants.

Bucking his hips into the friction the albino nuzzled the bulge straining against the soft fabric. He moaned again before grabbing the fabric with his teeth. Slowly he unbuttoned the Russian's pants with a pop as he placed his hands on strong thighs. A metallic taste flooded his taste buds as he pulled the zipper down with his teeth. Scarlet orbs gazed at Russia mesmerizing the taller nation with just a simple glance.

Lust oozed out of those orbs like flesh blood from a wound. He watched the zipper fall from stained lips, stared as a pink wet muscle lick the plump flesh. An urge to bite and kiss those lips ran like thick poison through his veins. Nails dug into warm skin as the Russian pushed the yearning away. The red eyed nation's back arched as he gasped at the feeling of his flesh ripping.

It was a most beautiful and magnificent sight indeed to see the proud Prussian on his hands and knees, back arching as his eyelids drooped and panting. His clothes ripped and falling of his lithe muscular shoulders as snow caressed his body. Each hot puff of air hitting his erection sent shocks of pure bliss through his form. A growl escaped Ivan's throat as this side trip in his plan was taking far to long.

Gilbert obediently responded to the other's displeasure as he continued by pulling down silk boxers. The freezing cold winter air made the Russian breath hitch as his harden need was freed. A tentative tongue ran the length of his arousal before it was engulfed in a warm cavern. Groaning as his need was slowly encased the taller nation hung his head with a curtain of sandy blonde locks covering violet eyes. Teeth lightly scraped the harden flesh causing hips to buck.

Gloved hands calmly kneaded Russia's hips like a kitten as a tongue lick the underside of his erection. Heat spread like a wildfire chasing away his natural frozen temperature. Clouded thoughts became a dense fog with every lick and scrape, yet no matter how obscured they became his objective remained clear. Dark mauve eyes examined the pale white cheeks as they slowly became sunken with a deep suck. Ivan gave a low groan before moving his hand that rested on the Prussian's lower back.

The flesh he caressed was an odd combination of a frigid winter storm and a sweltering summer day. Dragging his nails a long the contrasting flesh the taller nation drew more blood as he created deep scratch marks in flawless skin. He could never go long without seeing the sweet essence. It was, and always will be, his second favorite liquid. Fingers brushed the albino's shoulder causing a shiver to pass through that small body.

A loud pain filled moan sent electric vibrations through his aching need. Gripping the white locks even tighter Russia bucked his hips into that warm mouth. Another moan sent shock waves along his spine as he relished in the pain laced in that sound. Some of the silk strands slipped from his grasp as they were ripped from their places. Teeth drew a line before a long lick ran the length of the hard member occupying his mouth.

Pressure was rapidly building, increasing inside Ivan the longer that mouth was on him. The taller nation was close, but the fun was far from over. Harshly he pulled the white locks back forcing that delicious mouth off him. Violet eyes ran over Gilbert's face, taking in the blood splatter, flushed cheeks, heavy lidded crimson orbs, open panting lips, and the strings of salvia running down a wounded chin. Throwing the Prussian on his back he slammed their lips together in a violent clash.

Passion.

Bloodthirsty.

Lust.

Bruising.

Painful.

It was the only way to describe the kiss.

_'Well, mind-blowing could be added.' _Gilbert thought.

He whimpered as the other nation pulled away taking away the warmth with it. A nip was placed on his bottom lip causing his eyelids to flutter with simple pleasure. The albino's taste buds were tingling with the musky taste of the Russian's pre-cum, a taste he wanted to experience fully. It was a simple want, intensified by the love and sorrow filling his heart. He let a somber laugh escape his lips as red eyes watched his breath float away in tiny clouds.

_'My people must hate me right now.' _He thought's tone was covered in a thick layer of guilt. _'My Capital must be a complete disaster.' _Prussia laughed again at the awful feeling inside him. _'All because of this man's game. A game he knows is ruining me.'_

Another tear slipped from his eye as he stared up into a looming, haunting face. He saw a flicker in violet eyes before a hand wiped the tear away. No words, no questions escaped Ivan's lips this time, instead the taller nation leaned down to place a chaste kiss on his lips. A dead smile stretched across the Prussian's lips as the other broke the tender connection.

Crimson eyes stared into the dark grey clouded sky as the snow fell. The flakes were larger now and gaining speed. Crazed laughter burst from his vocal cords before turning into a pitiful whimper as more pain gripped his heart. It seemed the more the snow fell the more pain consumed him.

"You are awful. An absolute _monster_, Ivan."

A gasp was harshly ripped from his lips as his pants and undergarments were removed. Ghosting lips were roughly pressed against his before the Prussian was flipped over. Gilbert allowed it to happen without complaint as his head spun again making his vision blur and dance around. Large hands caressed his naked chest almost lovingly as Russia buried his nose in wet bloody white locks.

"Aaah."

Prussia moaned as he felt the Russian's slick arousal grind against his bare back side. Fingers curled around his throat as they ever so softly stroked the dark purplish-red marks littering his neck with claim. Ivan couldn't stop the laughter pouring out after hearing those defeated spiteful words.

"_Spasibo_ for the compliment, Gilbert." He whispered those words sensually in the white haired nation's ear. "Yet I do hope to change your mind."

_'You cannot change my mind because I will always forgive your sins and love you unconditionally.'_

He bucked against the Russian's hips as his thought ended. All the want from his body disappeared as his lithe body filled with need. The hand stroking his bruised neck stilled as it became a clenching hold making breathing a little harder. A strong arm wrapped around his waist pulling him flush against the Russian's larger frame. He let a small moan slip from his lips and a soft purr to rumble from his throat.

Ivan nuzzled the crook of his neck, tickling him with drenched blonde locks. The Prussian stretched his neck to give the other nation more access as a tongue gently licked his flesh. Cold was nipping at the bare skin on his legs and palms as they left impressions in the snow. Their hips rocked together causing immense pleasure to course through their bodies. Gilbert hung his head, eyes clenched shut as white, pink, and red strands covered his face like a curtain. His mind was foggy once again, taking his once clear thoughts and dragging them through a storm. Russia bit the back of his neck in a gentle tight hold.

"I-Ivan."

He lowly moaned the other's name as his fingers curled in the snow. They formed a pair of fists as long claw-like marks stretched out in front. A growl reached his ears, a growl that voiced nothing but lust and arousal. The bite deepened, not enough to draw blood, just enough to speak of dominance and obedience. Russia's hand sprawled on his stomach moved down his body. It ghosted over the white haired nation's leaking need before dropping on a firm round globe.

Gilbert gave a muffled whimper at the sensation of that hand. He could feel the taller nation spread his cheek for better access. A wet tongue lapped at the bite on the back of his neck as warm breath cooled the saliva. There was no doubt in the Prussian's mind about the events that were coming. Even with his mind clouded he knew Ivan's intentions.

Teeth bit a bruised bloody lip as the red eyed nation tried not to tense. Another lick to the back of his neck whispered silent words of relaxation. He moaned as a path was made down the column of throat. Russia's blood lust kept growing, ever since that first drop of blood hit the virgin snow. Ever since he watched blood flow from the red eyed nation he knew it would be unquenchable until he claimed the other. He lapped up the dried and flesh crimson liquor adorning that elegant slender pale neck. Gilbert shivered and withered in his grasp. Moans were released into the silent air as they were covered in a veil of snow.

The hand that was resting on his marked neck trailed down his blood splattered chest. Reaching for his harden flesh as the other nation slowly stroked him. Pleased sounds were muffled by the teeth biting his lower lip. Prussia warmed at the weight pressing down on his back and his muscles relaxed.

It began in that moment, as soon as Ivan felt him relax he moved his hand back up to tht stubborn jaw. Gently he turned the other's head and looked in to those ruby orbs before kissing bleeding lips in a sweet loving touch. Just before their lips met he softly called out to the albino.

"Gilbert."

The Russian thrust into him hard and quick, swallowing the scream that escaped the fragile being beneath him. Tears streaked sullen cheeks from the intense pain. Eyelids were clenched shut as he moaned at the discomfort. A smirk was kissing his lips as Russia pulled away with a self-satisfied smile gracing his features.

The white haired nation was panting hard and fast willing the feeling of being ripped apart away. Ivan nuzzled his hair in a deceitful attempt to soothe, groaning as he pulled back out and thrust back in. A quieter scream was released into the cold wind, but he pay it no mind as he worked his hips into an intense pattern. Each thrust damages Prussia more than the last. Shaking his body with agony. Tearing him and causing more blood to be spilled.

Pain filled moans occasionally snuck out between pants and gasps. Sweat soaked his frozen body making him colder than ever before yet Ivan's body wrapped around his own set him on fire. Gilbert didn't care though, it made no difference to him if the act was pleasurable or not. He chose to ignore the warnings in his head even going so far as mouthing off knowing the out come it would bring. Ivan was using him just as Gilbert was using the taller nation.

"Nngh...Ivan."

Sparks danced on his nerves like fireworks in the sky. The pain faded to heavenly bliss as his little bundle of nerves was hit dead on. Russia moaned in response as he sank his teeth into the albino's shoulder. Blood filled his mouth and ran rivulets down a pale lithe arm. Ivan drank it greedily.

Sucking and licking the crimson liquor as his thrusts became faster. Moving his hand down the taller nation gripped the other's leaking arousal. Groaning loudly the albino bucked his hips against flesh. Blood still leaked from the bullet wounds as the rocking disrupted the muscles and bullet still lodged inside. Hot breath hit the Prussian's ear as a cheek lays against his head. A breathless sounding laugh escaped him at the odd tickle that ran down his spine.

"_Prussiya._"Ivan called softly.

His heart still quaked at that name, but with pleasure clouding his mind Gilbert moaned out in pleasure. The beating organ keeping him alive pounded inside his chest as the building bliss rose higher and higher. Prussia could feel he was close as the intensity of these God-like feelings became unbearable. He was about to explode as was Russia, if his hurried and uneven rhythm was anything to go by. Ivan bit the side if his neck claiming him once again, perhaps this time forever. The bit felt deep and a little knowing sense in the back of his head told him that it would scar over to stay until he died.

With a loud moan at a harsh thrust Prussia ached his back as he came over the taller nation's hand. The rocking motion as well as the sensation of being filled was still pleasurable in his climax. Ivan let out a groan as he felt the velvet walls surrounding him tighten. He let out a few moans, tiny gasps as his body was still being used. A few more thrusts later and Ivan also reached his peak, filling the albino.

"Ivan." Gilbert moaned. The Russian rode out his climax by thrusting into the lithe body beneath him a few more times. Groaning Russia released his bruising grip on the white haired nation's hips and pulled out. Violet eyes caught the brief sight of hand shaped bruises forming on those pale hips before he turned away.

A low moan swirled in with the snowflakes as his weaken body lost its remaining strength. Swiftly turning around Ivan caught him and lay him on his back. Snow crunched under his weight while the two nation's breath returned to normal. The tattered remains of Prussia's blue military jacket barely covered his naked body. He met Russia's purple eyes before staring up at the clouded grey sky.

Snowflakes brushed his cheeks in a caressing manner as exhaustion was melting into his limbs. The cool metal of the Iron Cross burned his skin. A thin layer of snow covered it before the very little heat coming from his flesh melted the flakes away. Guilt flooded his veins as he only now remembered his precious symbol. Shame colored his body and mind as the realization of what he had done set in.

He could feel all his wound and bruises as well as the blood still trickling from his flesh. Even more shame clouded his sights as he shifted making it impossible to ignore the ache in his nether region and the warm bloody climax seeped out into the snow. All he could think about now was how his little brother, Ludwig, would react to the state his body was in. Would he jump to conclusions demanding the name of his 'rapist'? Or would he simply come to the shame filled facts on his own? If Germany were to do that than Gilbert would rather die out here in the snow, left to be buried alive until he froze to death or bled, which ever came first.

Prussia flinched as he felt fingers brush the icy metal adorning his neck. A cruel smile played on Ivan's lips as crimson met violet. The Russian vaguely recalled the taste of metal as he licked the other's skin, but his attention was swayed into focusing on other actives. He could see the fear twinkle in twin pools of blood, watched as it grew deeper the longer he caressed the Iron Cross.

"This is precious to you, is it not _Krolik_?"

Russia's eyes crinkled in amusement as his smile grew wider. The albino knew he did not have to say anything. He knew that the taller nation was all ready aware of its importance to him. Gilbert knew the Russian just wanted him to suffer further. A light chuckle from above made his attention shift. The fingers stroking the Iron Cross were now curled around the metal.

Eyelids closed over fearful ruby eyes as his heart beats screamed in his ears. The seconds passed by in an agonizingly slow manner. Those cold ice like fingers slithered across his chest as Ivan tugged on the precious symbol. Gilbert shivered as the lingering warmth left over from their pervious act vanished.

His eyes flew open, a gasp harshly fell from his lips, and a great pain ripped through his heart at the sharp tug. The weak lithe frame of the Kingdom of Prussia arched off the ground as Ivan ripped the Iron Cross from his neck. A metallic sound echoed in his head the moment the clasp broke. Emptiness settled inside himself, worse than before. Fingers roughly grabbed his sore bruised chin before a pair of frozen lips violently crashed onto his own. With no effort at all Russia pried those soft blue tinted lips open.

The taller nation's slimy yet velvet tongue danced in his mouth and as lewd as it was he couldn't help the moan that burst forth. This kiss was a savage arousing act that left Prussia feeling like he was falling into a black hole. Ivan savored the vodka tainted spicy, sugary favor of the red eyed nation. He wanted to remember that flavor and hold it close. A clear remembrance until he claimed that mouth again.

He pulled away yet remained very near as he stared into dulling crimson orbs. Their breath mingled as they passed life to one another in deep breathes. Cold amused filled violet watched somber accepting scarlet. With each word spoken their lips brushed.

"Always remember _Prussiya_. You belong to me, my beautiful _neryakha_."

As those words echoed away Ivan stood with the Iron Cross clutched tightly in his hand. Melted snowflakes slid down sheet white dirty cheeks as the sore wounded nation turned on his side to watch the Russian Empire fix his clothes before walking into the heavily falling snow. Gilbert lifted his arm spreading his fingers as he tried to grab the Russian's coat despite the knowledge that he was too far away.

The albino was left growing colder, if that was even possible, and slowly bleeding out. He was left to cry his sorrows as he as progressively buried in the thick falling flakes. He was left to live out his wish so his littler brother would not see. In a mad desperation a scream left his lips as anger consumed him yet he still tried to reach the back of the one he loved. The long tan coat was still visible as laughter reached his ears before Ivan disappeared in the falling snow. Gone like a phantom in the wind.

* * *

Translations( I'm not doing all of them cause I figure you would know the common phrases, if not just ask me and I'll be happy to translate):

_neryakha = _slut

I hope you enjoyed it and please Review.

~XxSebastin'sXLittleXRobinxX


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